Perspective
by Noriellie
Summary: The war was a horrible thing. All it caused was pain and suffering. Neither side won, both would always lose… It was all about perspective though… 'Cause if he looked at it that way, maybe the war wasn't such a bad thing in the end.


**Foreword: **Fanfic based on the topic: "War – What is it good for?" given by my English teacher.

_This is canon compliant in the beginning, however, it will be stray from the canonical plot nearing the end._

_Disclaimer: All characters and original plot line owned by Kubo Tite._

**R&R!**

* * *

_Perspective_

_A Bleach Fan Fiction_

_By Noriellie_

* * *

Hitsugaya Tōshirō frowned as he stared at his best friend's body. He felt the bile rise to his throat at her tattered state. He had done this to her. It was all his fault. His teal eyes watered and he let out an anguished cry.

All of this was his fault.

Hinamori Momo's signature bun bobbed atop her head. He frowned at her new uniform. It was all black with a white single sash. She was a shinigami now. She was handling _swords_ now. He grunted at her.

"Shiro-kun! There you are," she panted. She looked really tired. He mentally smacked himself. Of course she was tired. She'd just ran all the way to his district from her barracks. Who wouldn't be tired?

"I thought I told you not to call me that," he replied irratibly, showing no signs of worry for her health.

"Listen, listen," she began. He let out an annoyed growl—which she blatantly ignored—he knew what this meant. "Aizen-taichō is so nice to me!"

There she was again, talking about that _Aizen_. Annoying Aizen. He sighed at her. She would go on for hours on end just talking about how great and amazing her captain was. He wondered if the girl was mentally fit.

"He's even helping me with training! Said he'd never seen such talent in a person before!" she exclaimed, quite loudly, into his ear. He stared at his childhood friend and could almost swear he saw stars in her eyes. "I wonder if he'll…"

He clamped his ears with his hands, not wanting to hear any more. He couldn't care less if she found it rude that he did not want to listen to her endless blabber. It wan't like she noticed anyway. She could go on for days without a break and never notice that he'd already left her on that bench. Yes, she was that obsessed.

* * *

Hinamori had become even more enamored by this man. He was getting sick of it. So, he decided to see for himself. He would see what was so great about this guy.

He made the journey towards their barracks. It was surprisingly really far. He marvelled at how adept Hinamori was at shunpō. He vowed to learn it at soon as he was able to leave his grandmother. If he was able to leave.

He met a woman with really big melons inside her shirt. He wondered why anyone would put melons inside their shirt but decided it was none of his business. He was here to meet Sōsuke Aizen.

She told him about the cause of his grandmother's illness. It was him. It was all his fault.

And so, he set out to be a shinigami, forgetting about Aizen altogether.

* * *

The child prodigy, they said he was. In a way, he guessed he was. He was exceeding all expectations. They expected him to graduate really soon.

She visited him often in the Academy. It was just like before though. It was all talk about the godlike Aizen. He doubted he was that magnificent. He doubted it very much. He did not voice this however, for he knew she would not listen.

He began to worry about her unhealthy fixation on the Fifth Division captain. He doubted she was this starstruck just from his saving her. He frowned. Something else was at play.

* * *

He was the captain of Tenth Division. Hinamori and the woman were immensely proud of him. He was rather proud of himself too.

The woman was called Matsumoto. She was a drunk. She was his lieutenant. He grimaced at her passed out form on his couch. His office smelt distinctly of sake. She probably had one of her drinking buddies over again.

He sighed. He had a huge headache.

"Shiro-kun, good evening!" Hinamori's tiny voice greeted. He whirled around and faced her. Her eyes looked glassy, he noted with a furrow of his brows.

"It's Hitsugaya-taichō," he corrected on impulse.

She pouted a bit but shook her head. "Aizen-taichō said he wants to talk to you," she declared. He raised an eyebrow but nodded anyway. A hell butterfly would have sufficed.

They walked in relative silence. It was peculiar. Hinamori had not uttered a word about her idol. Something was up…

He never found out what it was.

Aizen wanted to thank him for reasons he would not specify. Frustrated, he left in a flurry of icy reiatsu. He had no time for cryptic old men.

In hindsight, he really should have stayed.

* * *

Aizen, Gin and Tōsen had betrayed Seretei, masked by the execution of none other than Kuchiki Rukia. He and Matsumoto were first to find out. First to try and get to the bottom of things really. Not even her adoptive brother bothered question Central.

Hinamori was now mentally unstable.

He frowned at Karakura Town. It was desolate. There was none but a single soul in sight. It was Urahara Kisūke. His cat, Shihoin, was nowhere to be seen.

"Good evening!" he greeted his group with a snap of that annoying fan of his.

"Good evening," he nodded. "Our quarters?"

"Everything's been set up. Your ride should be coming soon," he affirmed.

"Not me. I'm heading to the bars!" Matsumoto chirped. He growled, effectively making her shrink back with a small 'never mind.' But he knew she would sneak out with Abarai and Madarame later on. He'd be there, waiting to reprimand them all.

Urahara led them inside his shop. It looked the same as last time. It really needed a make-over.

Hinamori was begging him to save Aizen. She was pleading his case, saying that he was innocent. It hurt. He frowned as the Captain-Commander knocked the deranged girl out. He nodded at the old man's apology and turned off the screen.

He felt like screaming.

He didn't do it, though. He would hold it in for now. All of the pent up anger would be unleashed on Aizen. Until then, he would bide his time and become stronger.

* * *

He was here. Sōsuke Aizen was here in Karakura. So was his second-in-command, Ichimaru Gin. He could feel his blood boil at the sight of them. He was ready to kill them both.

Aizen and his illusions. It made him want to pull his hair out. Gin's overall creepiness made the hair at the back of his neck stand up. Yeah, he would kill them both.

He fought Tier Harribel. She turned out to be a formidable opponent. He frowned. He was using unnecessary power. He should have been fighting against the ring leaders! He growled in annoyance.

He won.

He faced off with Aizen. They were evenly matched in the end. In a moment fuled by adrenaline, he stabbed the traitor in the gut.

It wasn't him.

He cluched the lifeless body of Hinamori Momo in his arms. He had killed her. He killed her with his own hands. He swallowed the lump in his throat. He had been irrational, too caught up in the moment to notice the illusion that Aizen had put up.

He had killed his best friend.

Fresh tears fell down his bloody cheeks and onto the face of the shinigami. He was devastated. Why did it have to be like this? What had he done to deserve such a fate? What had she done?

He wished he could right it all. To go back in time and fix all of his mistakes. Even if it were just a few minutes. Just so he wouldn't kill her.

He realeased a hollow and pained scream.

* * *

War…

All it caused was pain and suffering. Neither side won, both would always lose. It was just the way it was.

He'd lost his grandmother. He lost Hinamori too. Who else would die? Matsumoto? Ukitake?

It wasn't impossible. For all they knew, every single one of them could die. It was perfectly reasonable thinking.

Aizen could achieve his goal and become god after all. His reign of terror would begin and all of the souls would suffer. The spirit world would crumble.

* * *

He woke up in the middle of a grassy field. He was wearing clothes from long ago. From when he was still living with his grandmother. His eyes widened in realization. Tears welled up in his eyes.

This was too good to be true.

He stood and stretched his short body. The sun shone brightly in the sky.

He heard a scream. Hinamori! He rushed there as fast as his short legs could manage. He stared in defeat at the huge hollows surrounding her pettite form. Aizen would be arriving soon. He needed to do something. And fast.

He ground his teeth together and flared his reiatsu, drawing them to him. He remembered how to shun-pō. With a grin he flash stepped away, leading the monsters to an area where they could not harm any souls. The shinigami would take care of them.

He rushed into the damp forest, hollows hot on his tail. Finally, he felt the familiar pulse of reiatsu. It was Kuchiki Byakuya's, not Aizen's. He felt immense happiness at the turn of events. Hinamori would be in the noble's hands.

* * *

He was dragged off to Kuchiki Manor soon afterwards. He was being adopted. Hinamori stayed behind to look after grandmother. He would visit them occasionally. Just like Hinamori had done.

He and Rukia were siblings now. They were known as the Ice King and Queen. She became his lieutenant of Tenth Division. He was still captain.

Grandmother healed and was back to being up and about. It was a miracle. Hinamori never left her side. She never became a shinigami. She was far from Aizen.

He guessed there was one good thing that came out of the Winter War. He was able to relive his life and correct mistakes.

Hinamori was able to live, he still became captain, he was now known as Kuchiki Tōshirō, a noble and he would still be able to stop Aizen's betrayal and Gin's honor.

If he looked at it this way, maybe the war wasn't such a bad thing.

* * *

**Afterword**: Not exactly the best ending. I know.


End file.
